The Return of the Phantom
by The Real Muse
Summary: Loosely derived from the screenplay. This is not a direct novelization but an A/U of the episode. Continued on my home website


The Return of the Phantom (A/U novelization)  
  
Author's note: Loosely derived from the screenplay 'Return of the Phantom,' by William Welch. This is not a direct novelization of the episode, it is an A/U version.  
  
By: CindyR  
  
Krueger was dead.  
  
Nelson had repeated that phrase to himself a thousand times; a chant and a charm against the dark fear that maybe -- just maybe -- this was not so. But.... No, Krueger was dead. Nelson had seen the body, touched by the icy chill which was flesh bereft of life. Krueger was dead. Krueger was....  
  
Nelson sighed deeply. Why couldn't he shake this premonition of impending disaster? And why couldn't he banish Gerhardt Krueger from his thoughts?  
  
Two days had passed; then three since they'd sent the man to his watery grave, nothing had happened - nothing at all to make Nelson believe Krueger had actually been what he claimed to be - an undead remnant of a past over sixty years gone. But Nelson couldn't shake the air of expectant waiting which ate away at his nerves, denying his body badly needed rest. Waiting, ..waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
Three days of restless tension were enough to wear on any man, even one with a constitution as stoutly hale as Harriman Nelson's. Thus it was, after seventy hours without rest and with Seaview safely on course for port, Nelson found himself drowsing at a desk in the lab, head resting uncomfortably on the myriad reports and papers associated with running NIMR. It was then that he heard...the voice.  
  
"Admiral Nelson."  
  
It came again, calling his name, coaxing him back to the threshold of consciousness. He heard it more clearly now; a woman's voice, pleasantly accented and so very, very far away. 'Admiral Nelson. I am here about Captain Krueger."  
  
"Krueger?" He mumbled the name which had been plaguing him these many days.  
  
"Krueger." The voice spoke again, tenderly, infinitely sad. "My name is Lani," it went on. "You have not finished with Captain Krueger. He will come to see you again."  
  
Nelson stirred restlessly, sleep still binding his soul with silken threads. "No," he mumbled. "He's dead. He's dead ...buried."  
  
"He will return."  
  
"No."  
  
"He will return, ..he will return, ..he..."  
  
With a sudden snap, Nelson returned to full consciousness. "Who's there?" No one answered. Slowly he rose, turning in place to examine the empty lab. There was nothing.  
  
A thrill of supernatural horror twisted his gut, propelled his feet to the entrance hatch. "Who's there?" he demanded again. Only the locking echoes of his own voice provided reply, reverberating down the empty passage and soon lost.  
  
Slowly and deliberately, Nelson shut and redogged the hatch. Looking around the lab again, he'd nearly succeeded in convincing himself that the whole experience had been nothing more than a bad dream when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle, heralding the same wild chill he'd felt whenever he'd looked into Krueger's fathomless eyes. "Who...?"  
  
"I've come to you with a warning, Admiral."  
  
There it was again. Not Krueger - this was the woman's voice, gentle and unthreatening. "Captain Krueger will return. He has not changed his mind."  
  
Nelson stared wildly about the lab again, attempting to pinpoint the source of this maddening warning. It was only then that he realized the voice wasn't coning from anywhere inside the room. The origin of the voice was within his own skull.  
  
"He intends to take over the body of your Captain Crane. He will again try to force you to shoot your friend. Do not listen to him when he comes. Close your mind against his thoughts. Close your mind against his thoughts. Close...."  
  
That was all Nelson could take. Panicked, he bolted for the hatch, running down the narrow passage. Instinct turned his steps toward people - any people. There - the stairway leading to the control room! He took the steps three at a time, nearly breaking his neck and scaring the commander of Gamma watch badly.  
  
The man jumped several feet from the plot table, spinning to face his wild-eyed and breathless superior. "Admiral? Admiral Nelson?"  
  
Nelson waited a full sixty seconds before he could trust himself to speak. He did note with some relief that the voice of the mysterious woman no longer echoed in his thoughts. With considerable difficulty. Nelson took a deep breath and pulled himself together. "Uh. ..yes, O'Brien?"  
  
Diving Officer O'Brien loved forward, his loon face puckered with concern. "Are you all right. Sir?"  
  
"Yes, of course, O'Brien. Why do you ask?"  
  
O'Brien would never know what this attempt at nonchalance had cost Nelson, only that it was enough to silence his questions. "Uh...no reason. Sir. Would you care to examine the log?"  
  
Nelson accepted the book gratefully, burying his raging emotions beneath the familiar duties. He remained there all night, reluctant to leave the comfortable security of the control room, abandoning his position only when Alpha watch began to trickle in.  
  
Nelson's first stop was Sickbay, where the sub's doctor ran him through a cursory examination. When it was over, Jamieson stepped back, shaking his head. "Nothing wrong with you. Admiral. Near as I can see, you're sound as a new dollar." He paused. "Of course, the way the economy's going...."  
  
The joke fell flat. "Are you certain, Jamie? Nothing wrong at all?"  
  
Jamieson relented, tapping his clipboard with a pen held between two fingers. "Well, there is some indication of nervous tension. I have warned you about overworking yourself of late, but otherwise, there's nothing serious."  
  
Nelson hesitated, then slid off the examination table. "Would this 'nervous tension' .be enough to induce hallucinations?" he asked, chewing one thumbnail thoughtfully.  
  
Jamie frowned. "Why do you ask?"  
  
The Admiral shrugged a trifle sheepishly. "I have reason to believe I've been hearing things that really weren't there."  
  
"Well, I can't honestly say there are any symptoms serious enough for that." He gave Nelson's shoulder a comforting pat. "Perhaps you've been having nightmares."  
  
Nelson nodded, unconvinced. "Perhaps."  
  
He crossed to the door, halting at the touch of a hand, warm on his shoulder. "Harry?"  
  
Nelson hesitated a single moment, just long enough to paint a careless smile on his lips. "Yes, Will?" he responded, turning.  
  
Jamieson met that studied nonchalance with a warm, concerned gaze. "If you want to talk I'll be here."  
  
The smile faded. "Thanks, Will. I'll...keep it in mind."  
  
"See that you do," Jamieson admonished, giving the tense shoulder a squeeze, "and Admiral - try to relax, huh?"  
  
The other sighed deeply, but this time the smile he donned was a genuine one. "I'll try. Doc." Feeling marginally better, Nelson turned to his duties, but still he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. Something that might spell the end of his life and Seaview. He'd have to tell Lee about it later. Perhaps between the two of them, they could come up with some answers.  
  
***  
  
Lee Crane read the last lines of the duty log, then signed the page in his neat script. Finally he could turn in. He'd been on duty long after Alpha watch had faded into Beta, but there had been so much to do. There was nothing left now that Chip couldn't handle.  
  
He straightened slowly, vainly attempting to ease the ache in his back. It felt like he'd been bent over the plotting table all day -he'd be glad to take a shower and get some rest.  
  
"They say a bad back is the first sign of age.'  
  
Crane turned, meeting the disgustingly cheerful countenance of his best friend with a grimace. "A little stiff," he corrected firmly, "and I'm no older than you are."  
  
"Ah, but some of us wear it better than others." Chip grinned irresistibly, robbing the statement of offense.  
  
Lee grinned back. "You're out of line, Mr. Morton," he said with lock severity. "You're supposed to show a little more respect for a superior officer."  
  
Chip's face blanked of all expression. "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. I'll be more careful in future. Sir." He wiggled an eyebrow. "Is that what you had in mind?"  
  
Lee burst into laughter. "I give up." He relaxed into the comfortable banter. It had been a long voyage and that little incident with Captain Krueger had kept everyone on edge for days. They all needed a break. "Have you made any plans for leave yet, Chip?"  
  
"Not yet." Morton scanned a navigational chart. "Looks like we reach Pearl at nineteen-hundred hours." He looked up. "What about you? Any plans?"  
  
"I have a date..." Chip cocked an inquiring eye. "...with a bed, a pillow, and nothing between me and three straight days of sleep. It's been a rough trip."  
  
"That it was. Why not go get some rest now. Lee?" Chip gave him a friendly clap on the back. "I've got the conn."  
  
Crane stretched. "Maybe I will. I...."  
  
"Captain?" a crewman interrupted, beckoning him over.  
  
Crane stepped around the plotting board, stopping behind a short, slender Latino in a blue jumpsuit. "What is it, Rodriguez?"  
  
"Fathometer is showing a change in bottom terrain. I think we're hitting some coral beds, Sir."  
  
Lee considered. "Very well. Nelson, stand by for a course correction."  
  
"Aye, Sir."  
  
Crane bent over the charts, and began plotting an alternate route to Hawaii. He looked up when Chip crossed to his side. "Here's tomorrow's duty roster, Lee."  
  
Crane took the clipboard. "Very well, post...." He paused when a name caught his eye. "You have Kowalski on starboard watch. Is he fit for duty?'  
  
Chip shrugged. "Doc certified him. Says putting him back on duty is the best thing for him." Crane nodded and scribbled his name to the list. "Very well. Post it,"  
  
"Aye, aye, Sir."  
  
Crane bent back to his task, mind consumed with figures and bottom configurations until a soft, insistent voice broke in on his concentration. "Lee."  
  
He looked up. "Yes, Admiral?"  
  
"I want to talk to you before you turn in."  
  
The flash impression Crane received of the Admiral - the rumpled clothes and unshaven jaw - sent an unfamiliar thrill through Seaview's captain. "Of course, Admiral." He put down the pencil.  
  
"Not here." Nelson snapped as though the point were obvious. "In my cabin."  
  
Lee nodded again, watching until the tense figure stumbled back up the staircase. "Chip?' Morton, who had been watching the exchange intently, appeared at his side. "I'm worried about the Admiral,' Lee confessed, feeling at a loss as to how to handle the situation. "He...' He swallowed. "He's been like this for days. "I. ..don't know how close he light be to the breaking point.'  
  
Chip nodded sympathetically. "I've been noticing. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Just. ..stay close to the intercom - in case I need you."  
  
"Aye, aye, Sir." Crane dallied, staring unseeingly at the plotting table until Chip reached over and plucked the pencil from his fingers. "Go on, Lee. I'll finish the course correction."  
  
"Right, Chip. Thanks." Crane squared his shoulders, bracing for whatever he light have to face in the Admiral's cabin. Whatever it was, he only hoped he was equal to the task.  
  
*** 


End file.
